“I’m not going to claim to be some noble freedom fighter. I was involved with this group hell-bent on destruction. It so happened they found out who my father was and decided he’d be their next target. I went along with it because I’d been too caught up to think for myself.” She pushed out another laugh. “Police showed up within minutes. I’d barely spray painted ‘eat the rich’ before I was handcuffed.”
“Little rebel. I’m surprised you wanted to work for me, given what I do.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I think you know, after all this time, I admire the way you conduct your business. But since you found out about my criminal past before you hired me, I’m surprised you wanted me to work for you.”
“It’s the age-old adage: keep your enemies close,” I drawled, which made her laugh. I joined her amusement. Catherine was the furthest thing from my enemy.
I probably should have been more concerned by this story, but I found it endearing. Young and wild Catherine, with her spray paint and convictions. Fuck the guy who had let her get arrested, though. I’d checked on him too. He was living on a muddy commune in Oregon, sharing a woman with two other men.
“My parents didn’t find what I’d done amusing. They had me on a plane within forty-eight hours of my release from jail.”
“They were worried about their reputations?” I ventured, my gut full of burning lava. I’d seen this girl’s mug shot. Eighteen and crying, scared and alone. She’d done wrong. Deserved to be punished. But if I were her father, there would have been no chance in hell I’d have sent her away. One look at her face, and I would have broken.
“Mmhmm. Looking back, I think they were probably worried about me too. I was spiraling. Turns out, kicking me out of the family was the best thing they could have done for me. I might still have a little Amy in me, but I worked the spoiled out of myself through manual labor and getting to know more of the world than the gilded cage I’d grown up in had allowed me to see.”
I’d spent a lot of time steeped in fury, but there weren’t many times I could remember that had touched the depth of my sudden rage toward people I’d never met.
And Catherine sounded completely okay with all of it.
“Why aren’t you mad?”
Another bitter laugh. “Oh, I was. But it’s been years, and while I’m definitely working through abandonment issues, I know they did me a favor in the end. If I’d stayed, I would have ended up with a deadbeat, addict husband or a clone of my mother. The very idea of either makes me want to rip my skin off.”
“Don’t do that.” I clamped my fingers around her wrist. “I like your skin.”
Her head turned sharply in my direction, cheeks glowing so brightly they seemed backlit. This woman might have been an expert at hiding her emotions, but her blushes always gave her away.
“I never thought you would appreciate tattoos,” she said.
“I never thought I would either,” I admitted, ending the topic of her parents for both our sakes. “I think I would appreciate pretty much anything on you.”
“Elliot…” She gasped my name, and it struck me to my core. I really fucking needed to hear her do that again.
Josephine let out a soft cry, deciding it was the exact right time to remind us she was in the car with us.
“Uh-oh.” Catherine laughed, her fingers grazing her lips. “We’d better get home before she gets too revved up.”
“Do you want to feed her before we go?” Josephine rarely cried, so when she did, I would have done anything to stop it. She was just so tiny and helpless, ten or twelve pounds at most. It drove me mad to know she wanted something and I wasn’t able to give it to her immediately.
“No, she’ll be fine for ten minutes. Let’s go home.”
I hesitated, and Jo whimpered again. Every second I sat here kept her from being fed and comforted, so I put the car in gear and drove as fast as I dared while keeping my two passengers safe. Catherine talked to Jo the whole way and periodically patted my arm, soothing us both at once. It worked better on the baby.
By the time I pulled into the garage, Jo’s whimpers had turned into baby bird cries. I was wound so tight it was all I could do to throw myself out of the car, unbuckle her from her seat, and hold her against my chest.
We both calmed the instant I had her in my arms.
Catherine circled the car, grinning at me. “Are you stealing my baby, Elliot?”
I swayed with her the way she liked, palming the back of her head. “I really don’t like when she cries.”